


Football Boy

by tomatopudding



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond and Q play together on the same football team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Football Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the lyrics of Matt Fishel’s “Football Song”

The bus was filled with the chattering of male voices, all talking over one another and morphing into a bubble of white noise. In the very last row of the bus, pressed up against the window with his earbuds shoved purposefully into his ears, sat a boy with a mess of black curls and his eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses. He was trying very hard not to frown at the other rough housing boys, but his nose was crinkled slightly in distaste. The driver could at least tell them all to sit down, for safety’s sake, he thought, of course, then someone would end up sitting next to him. His nose wrinkled further. 

A loud expulsion of air and a shoulder knocking against his told him that someone had done just that. It was Tanner, the team’s goalie, who grinned widely and yanked out one white earbud. 

‘Come on, Alphabet, join the fun. Stop being such a loner.’

Tanner was the one who had come up with the nickname Alphabet because the curly haired boy was named Q. It wasn’t short for anything or an initial. On his birth certificate under “first name,” all that was written was “Q.” Q had checked the document himself, just to be sure.

‘Neanderthalic grunting and hollering is not my idea of a good time,’ Q intoned primly, ‘I’ll leave that to the rest of you.’

As he pointedly returned his earbud to its proper place, Q hear Tanner mutter an insulting word that also began with a q. Q tried to ignore the pain that stabbed through him at the sound of it. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the soothing sound of John Lennon’s voice. Maybe if he turned the music up loud enough, Ringo’s drumming could make the time pass more quickly. 

Q had never wanted to play football. He was much more content to spend his time with his computer than with another person. His parents, worried that he would end up wasting away, had signed him up for football without even consulting him first. He had no choice. Not that he was bad. Q was actually quite a good offensive player. His small size and fleet feet allowed him to dance around the opposing team’s players. The team usually deployed him if they needed to get the ball quickly from one end of the pitch to the other. 

A tap on his shoulder brought Q out of his doze and his eyes snapped open. The scathing remark he had prepared died in his throat when he saw who had awoken him. It was Bond, the team’s star player. He had never missed a goal in his entire life.

‘Come on, Q,’ Bond said with a slight smile, ‘We’ve arrived. Coach is waiting for us.’

When Q had first been forced to join the football team, he hadn’t been very widely accepted. The team had not appreciated the scrawny, new cog being added to their already well-oiled machine. Bond was the captain of the team, so his word was pretty much law for the others. He and Q had a bit of a rocky start, mostly due to Q’s ability to use large words and be a snarky smart mouth when he put his mind to it. Eventually, though, things cleared up between them, for a very specific reason.

It first happened thee months after Q had joined the team. Three grueling, boring months filled with being ostracized and mercilessly teased. Over the course of the three months, Q had discovered that Bond lived only a few houses down from him and they tended to end up walking the same way home from practice, together but not together. 

After the first big game of the season -- they won by two -- Q and Bond were walking towards their respective homes. It was dark out, the game had gone long and the days were getting shorter. They came across Q’s house first. The front door was locked because his parents were out of town. It was at this point that Q discovered he didn’t have his house key. Q quickly descended from the front porch to see Bond still walking.

‘Bond.’

The other boy turned, one eyebrow raised in question. Q felt heat in his cheeks as his blush spread.

‘I’m kind of locked out.’

They stood there for a moment, Q blushing like a schoolgirl and Bond just standing there staring.

‘Come on,’ Bond said finally, ‘you can stay at mine while you wait for a locksmith.’

This was the beginning. Over the course of the hour they waited together, Q discovered several things. The first was that Bond was smart, a straight A student, and not the dumb jock Q had taken him for. The second was that Bond wasn’t really as self-centered as he wanted to make people believe. The bragging and strutting was an act. The third thing Q discovered was that Bond had some of the most gorgeous blue eyes he had ever seen. Q had always been a sucker for blue eyes, they made him go weak at the knees. Once he had discovered this fact, Q found out that he couldn’t even look at Bond anymore without his cheeks growing heated and flushed. 

That night, when he had his usual wank, he came with Bond’s name on his lips and the image of those blue eyes invading his mind. When he came down from the euphoria, Q could think of one thing: Oh, bugger.

After that day, the team became more manageable. Bond was being nicer, therefore so were the others. Bond and Q started actually walking together, side by side and talking quietly. Q found Bond to be a very good listener and slowly he stopped blushing every time they saw each other.

It was about a month after their friendship began that everything changed. Bond’s parents had met Q’s at the game and had invited them over for a celebratory dinner. The meal was delicious but uneventful. After the dishes were cleared away, Bond and Q went up to the former’s room to work on a school project they had coincidentally been paired together for.

Things were innocent enough at first, each boy working quietly on their portion of the project. Every once in a while, Q could feel Bond’s eyes on him and the blonde boy was slowly moving closer and closer. Finally, when their thighs were almost touching, Q threw down his pencil in exasperation. 

‘Can I help you?’ Q snapped, turning to face the other boy. 

Bond’s nose was mere inches from his own, clear blue eyes locked on warm brown ones. Q’s throat felt as dry as sandpaper and he swallowed.

‘Can I help you?’ Q tried again, but the words came out as more of a mumble.

‘I hope so,’ Bond murmured back. 

His hand came up to cup Q’s cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly across the younger boy’s lips. 

‘Bond, I--’

‘James,’ the blonde interrupted, ‘My name is James.’

Bond closed the gap between them, pressing warm, dry, chapped lips against Q’s. It wasn’t that Q hadn’t been kissed -- he had in fact had a girlfriend briefly, a sweet girl named Eve Moneypenny, but she had moved away, so they broke up amiably. It wasn’t even the first time kissing a boy -- too many illegally acquired beers had seen to that. Something about kissing Bond was different. He was gentle, but strong, the hand on Q’s cheek holding on just tight enough to keep his head still. Bond tilted his head just slightly and Q sighed into the kiss, his mouth opening to Bond’s probing tongue.

With a few well planned pulls, Q found himself flat on his back on the hardwood floor with Bond straddling his hips, their mouths still sealed together. Q couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as Bond’s body rubbed against his in all the right places. Their kiss was becoming wet, messy and rough, both of Q’s arms were wrapped around the boy above him, his fingers tangling into the short hair at the nape of Bond’s neck. One of Bond’s hands was holding Q’s head while the other was creeping up under his shirt. Things probably would have progressed further if Q’s father hadn’t wafted up to them, calling the brunette that it was time to go. 

Q and Bond broke apart, flushed an breathless. 

‘Why don’t you come over tomorrow, so we can work on our project some more,’ Bond suggested. His eyes boring into Q’s belied the glib tone. 

Q could only nod his assent.

Now, following Bond as he disembarked the bus, Q kept his eyes trained forward as an effort to not look at the other boy’s arse. It was difficult. Bond had a very nice arse. 

Coach Mallory gave Q a tight smile, his short brown hair shining with the wetness of the light drizzle that was beginning to fall. 

‘Alright boys, this is it,’ Coach Mallory said to the team crowded around him, ‘This is our biggest game yet.’

Q’s mind began to wander. Mallory had given variations of this same speech many times. Every game they played was the “biggest game yet,” obviously. The fact that this was the championship game didn’t faze Q in the slightest. It wasn’t like his big future plans included anything close to playing football in the rain.

His pep talk finished, Mallory sent out the starters to take the pitch. Q wasn’t among those who started off the game. He was often brought in if they were down in points and they needed to get the ball near the goal quickly. Bond, being the star player, spent the entirety of the game on the pitch. 

He headed off with the rest of the starters, his shoulder bumping against Q’s in an affectionate way as he went. Q watched him go. Bond’s white uniform was slowly getting wet in the precipitation and sticking to skin, the blue 7 stark between his shoulder blades. 

Q couldn’t help the slight smirk that spread across his lips as he watched the other boy go. Nice arse indeed.


End file.
